More of a Home
by fearlessgoddess2
Summary: A three-chapter sequel to Three Miles an Hour. Having long since settled in at Ellen’s house and at the Roadhouse, things have calmed down in their lives, but somehow they knew not all the trouble was behind them.
1. Chapter 1

**A three-chapter sequel to Three Miles an Hour. Trevor is now twelve and Jaz is eighteen. Having long since settled in at Ellen's house and at the Roadhouse, things have calmed down in their lives, and they've obtained some sense of normalcy. But somehow, they knew not all the trouble was behind them.**

**Rated: K+**

**More of a Home**

Chapter 1:

Jaz nodded to the couple as they left the bar, getting two nods in return, and went to their table to collect their bill and tip. She never expected big tips with customers that came to the Roadhouse, not because they were cheap, but because they didn't have much money to tip with. It was unusual as a hunter to have a steady source of income.

Walking over to the register and inputting the bill, she thought back to the conversation she'd had with Ellen just a few days before, the first night she'd spent as an eighteen-year-old. It was funny how things had changed so much in the past year and a half. Though she'd been worried at first of making it to eighteen without being noticed by someone, being forced to give up Trevor to the foster system, it was no longer a concern of hers. Of course she still worried, she would worry until he turned sixteen, but they were safe and that was what mattered. They were off the radar, not just of CPS but also of anyone that may take the fact that she could astral project and her brother could read minds a little bit the wrong way.

_"Ellen?"_

_Ellen looked up from her book at the knock at her bedroom door. "Jaz? Something wrong?"_

_"No, I just…." Jaz paused, trying to find the right words._

_Ellen smiled slightly. "Oh. Come on," she said, patting her bed. "I knew you'd want to talk." Jaz walked over and sat down on Ellen's bed, clasping her hands in her lap. "So. You start."_

_"I really love it here," Jaz said with a genuine smile. "Trevor loves it here. We've stayed safe. I've learned so much from you. And I have a great thing going working at the Roadhouse."_

_"But?"_

_"No. That's the thing. There is no but," Jaz said. "For the longest time, I had this whole plan that I'd help Trevor get control over his ability, we could make it until I turned eighteen and then, God willing, I could adopt him, put him back in school, I'd save up enough money for him to go to college, go from there. But now…."_

_"You don't know whether you want to change the plan," Ellen murmured._

_"I don't know what to do," Jaz whispered, her voice shaky._

_"Jaz…you will always be welcome here. You're welcome to stay as long as you like. And I know you know that. So if you want to start the wheels turning getting Trevor adopted…see what needs to be done and if you really could swing that…you could send him to school from here."_

_"I-I just…. I don't know if this would be the best place…for him to be. Forever," Jaz said. "Or at least…you know, until he graduates."_

_Ellen nodded slowly. "Around hunters, you mean. This is the safest place for you technically, but at the same time, in a different way, it's one of the most dangerous because of Trevor's ability." Jaz nodded slowly. "Did you ask him?"_

_"Yea. I mean it's more like he asked himself," she said with a dry smile. "Hard to keep anything from him. And he said that he knows why I'm worried and what I'm worried about, but he feels the same way that I do; this is more of a home than we've ever had before. And I don't want to…tear him away from that."_

_"You're just considering doing it for his own good anyway," Ellen murmured. Jaz pursed her lips, looking down to her hands. "Well…you want my opinion. So I'll give it to you." Jaz met her gaze again. "I think you should stay here. I know that you don't want to feel stuck here, to put down roots when you aren't sure if you want to spend forever here, but you can always pull up those roots and put 'em down somewhere else. If Trevor's happy, if he's comfortable, and so are you, then I think that's what's important. Radical changes in his life, and yours too, aren't something you should be eager to go for. So that's what I think. I think you should stay."_

After some more consideration on the subject, Jaz had decided to do just that. She'd been getting some great homeschooling materials for Trevor as well as herself, so they'd been keeping up with a normal curriculum. Not to mention that he seemed to be getting very smart with all the things he overheard. He had a better vocabulary than any twelve-year-old she'd ever met. She knew that as long as he kept that up, he'd be able to go to college. Nothing Ivy League, but he could get a degree, get somewhere with his life. Honestly, she was happy with where she was.

Jaz checked her watch, which read 10:35 PM. The saloon was empty, save for three guys that had apparently been on a road trip and stopped in and were splayed around a table recounting stories, a little too loudly for her taste. It was unusual for the Roadhouse, but occasionally happened. Ellen had gone to the house to get some bills she'd wanted to work on, so Jaz took the opportunity to go over the stock at the bar, taking down what they were low on so she could check in the back and make sure they weren't out.

"Hey! 'Nother round for my boys!" called one of the guys.

Jaz glanced over before putting down the pad of paper and grabbing a drink tray and laying it flat on her hand, heading over to gather the empty glasses. "Same?" she asked, gathering them up on the tray. "The Miller on tap?"

"Yes ma'am," he replied with a lazy nod, leaning back in the chair. The young man she'd found out was named Aaron was none too subtle as he leered at her chest and Jaz wished that she'd ignored the August weather and gone with a turtleneck. Hunters tended to have better manners than that. Either that, or just other things to think about. Guys like the ones in front of Jaz, however, she doubted did much thinking at all. Not from the level of intelligence she'd heard in the last hour from their conversation.

"Coming right up," she said, no inflection in her voice whatsoever. As she turned to go back to the counter, Jaz got a smack on the ass and her expression tightened, only the experience of many trips to and from the counter with things on her tray keeping the glasses from smashing on the ground.

After a brief moment of pause, Jaz went back to the bar, putting down the tray, and considered the many acts of revenge she could get, the least of which being dropping a laxative into his drink. Convincing herself that she was above such childish pranks, Jaz simply put the glasses in the sink and filled some new ones.

Walking back to the table with the refills, Jaz caught Trevor's narrowed eyes peering through the small window from the kitchen at the group of young men. She sent him a warning glare and a quick message of, "_I'm fine. They're just assholes. Stay back there._" He glared back briefly before rolling his eyes and heading back to the television in the back room.

"Anything else I can get you?" she asked unconsciously, no particular sense of emotion in her voice, as she put down each of the drinks on the table.

"Oh, I could think of a few things," murmured Aaron, the one she'd realized was the most arrogant of the three.

"Anything you'd have a chance of getting?" Jaz asked, expressionless.

The young man narrowed his eyes and Jaz inwardly sighed. "Is that so?" he asked her. "Come on, there's no way you're still jail bait, right?"

Jaz forced herself to bite back a smart response. She just gnashed her teeth together for a second before turning and going back to the bar. She let out a sigh and rolled her eyes as she heard the screech of a chair moving back and footsteps following her. "Hey. I asked you a question."

"Not an appropriate one," Jaz replied, putting down the tray and going over to wash the glasses in the sink.

"Not an appropriate one?" Aaron repeated, smirking. Jaz saw him lean against the wall at the end of the bar, arms folded, in her peripheral vision. "It's a compliment."

Jaz did some quick math in her head. Ellen had headed back to the house at about ten fifteen. Fifteen minutes there, fifteen minutes back. As long as she knew exactly where the bills were and which ones she wanted, she should be back soon. And Jaz didn't want to call her to ask her to come back. Call it pride, call it plain annoyance, but she didn't want to go running to her at any sign of trouble. She did wish that at least a hunter or another customer would come wandering in though. She didn't want to start anything.

"A compliment normally comes with a polite inflection of flattery," she replied, not turning back to him. "That was just offensive."

"A po-lite in-flection of flattery?" he asked, his eyes narrowed. "So what, you think you're too good for me? That it?" He walked up to her and leaned against the wall.

Jaz put down the glass and wiped her hands on a towel, facing him. "You aren't allowed behind the bar," she firmly told his dilated pupils.

"You're working at some run down bar in nowheresville, Nebraska and you think you're too good for me?" Aaron asked.

"I said you aren't allowed behind the bar," she repeated.

"Ya. I heard you. But I'm a paying customer and I don't think you should be insulting me."

"She _said_ you aren't allowed behind the bar." Aaron turned around to see Trevor standing ramrod straight, just outside the door to the back room.

_Damnit. _"Trevor, go watch TV," Jaz said tensely, moving her eyes to glare at him.

"And who is this?" Aaron asked, cocking his head slightly as he swaggered over to Trevor. "Little bro?" Trevor just stared up at him. Aaron leaned down to Trevor's level, his hands on his knees.

Jaz swallowed. She didn't like the look on Trevor's face. He was really pissed at this guy, and she had no doubt it wasn't just because of what he'd said to her; it was what he was thinking too. Trevor didn't usually have to deal with hearing the thoughts of pigs like these guys. With hunters, at the worst it was the guilt of a hunt gone wrong and the violent recollection of it.

"You know, Trevor, your sister is being really not nice to me," Aaron said slowly. "And I'm a paying customer."

"She's being pretty damn nice to you considering the way you've been acting," Trevor told him in a low voice. "So I think that you should pay your bill, take your friends, and get your disgusting, male chauvinistic, arrogant, limey ass out of here."

Jaz stared wide-eyed at her brother for a moment, astonished, before she hissed, "Trevor!"

"You are just a piece of work, aren't you?" Aaron growled. He reached forward, grabbing Trevor's arm, but Jaz barely had time to snap, "Hey!" before Trevor reacted.

Grabbing the young man's hand, Trevor twisted it hard, pulling him forward. Trevor snapped his knee up into Aaron's chin, sending him sprawling back, hunched over as his hand flew to his chin. Trevor took two steps forward, swung a right hook, catching him across the jaw, and rotated his body swiftly, kicking him in the stomach, sending the air whooshing from his lungs. Jaz stared, stunned, as Aaron stumbled back and fell to the ground.

The other two young men, who had been watching the exchange from the table as if it were an episode of Cops, leapt to their feet. "You little _punk_!" cried one of them.

"Trevor!" Jaz cried, darting forward.

Jaz barely made it two steps before Trevor easily countered the swing at his head from the young man that had meant to throw him back. Trevor grabbed the young man's wrist and pulled him forward, off balance. He slammed his fist into his nose, bringing his knee up into his stomach, and then flew a roundhouse kick through the air and into the side of his head, sending the young man crashing to the ground. Trevor slipped cleanly into a fighting stance, breathing hard, ready for another attack.

The third of them somehow had enough brains to take a step back rather than go after Trevor. Aaron stumbled to his feet, backing up, and the third hauled the second up from the floor. Aaron stared at Trevor for a few seconds, cradling his jaw as blood leaked from the side of his mouth, before growling _freak_ and turning, storming out of the saloon, the other two right on his heels.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

Jaz stared at the door to the saloon as it slowly closed, leaving her and Trevor in nothing but the familiar quiet sounds of the Roadhouse. Her eyes slowly went over to Trevor, who just stood in place, breathing hard, his fists clenched as he stared at the door the three young men had left through.

The glare of headlights slid through the Roadhouse as a car slowly pulled into the parking lot and after a moment the screech of tires sounded as the young men's truck skidded away.

A few seconds later, quick footsteps ran up to the door and Ellen ran inside. "What in the world—." Ellen stopped at the sight of Trevor, knuckles bruised and slightly bloody, his breath coming quickly. Trevor looked over to Jaz, who met his gaze. "What the Hell happened?" Ellen whispered.

"I was just going to ask the same thing," Jaz said quietly, staring at her brother. Trevor swallowed, flexing his fingers, before slowly turning and walking into the back of the saloon.

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"All three of them," Ellen finally responded, looking up to Jaz from the couch.

Jaz nodded with a sigh as she carefully wiped Trevor's hand clean, the first aid kit open on the table. "Yea. Well, technically two of them. The third managed to gather the sense to back off."

Ellen paused. "Trevor? You want to help us out here?"

Trevor chewed on his lip before he let out a soft sigh. "I learned it from the customers. Mostly the hunters."

Jaz's hand paused for a split second before she continued her first aid. "What do you mean? Someone's been teaching you?"

"No. I just…learned it."

Ellen blinked a few times. "You're saying that you learned it…the same way you learn what people are thinking?" she asked quietly.

"I didn't want to scare you," he whispered.

"Trevor, I'm not—." Trevor looked over to her, raising an eyebrow. Ellen sighed. "All right. I'm scared. But you know it's not that I'm scared of you hurting me or Jaz. Firstly, I'm scared you might go too far with some asshole that had some twisted thoughts about your sister but also I'm scared that you're going to do something like this and someone's going to find out. It's one thing to fend off some drunk guys that are causing trouble at the bar. It's another to…. I don't know. What else can you learn?"

Trevor swallowed. "Just about anything."

"Can we get a for instance?" Jaz asked.

Trevor hesitated. "How to mix a classic Cuban Mojito. How to replace the oil in a car. How to get past firewalls and hack into a website. How to clean and bandage a knife wound. How to correctly pronounce and enunciate an exorcism."

At this point, Jaz stopped again to stare at her brother in shock.

"Well the bartending will come in handy if he starts working at the Roadhouse," Ellen mused quietly.

"Trevor, why didn't you tell me?" Jaz whispered, putting down the damp washcloth and picking up a dry one.

"I just didn't want you to worry," he told her. "You already worry about me so much. I just—."

"You don't have the right to decide what I'm allowed to worry about," Jaz said. "And I do not want you to have something like this on your shoulders and yours alone. I want to be able to help you and be there for you with something like this. Okay?"

Trevor sighed softly. "Okay."

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Dean paused for a few moments. "He kicked _both _their asses," he stated in confirmation.

Jaz sighed. "Yea."

"Damn. I mean…." He let out a low whistle. "From skills he picked up from other _people_ like he picks up _thoughts_?"

"Yea. God, picking up thoughts was one thing, but this…. How can I even expect him to talk to me about something like this? I couldn't possibly understand."

There was another heavy pause. "You just do the best you can," he said quietly. "He's a kid, Jaz. He's gotta be terrified of it. But just being there for him, I'm sure, is a lot."

"I know," she murmured. "Anyway, talk to me about something else."

"Alright. Ah…oh, hey, Sammy got hit on by a guy yesterday."

Jaz blinked once before she burst out laughing. "He what?" she stammered.

"We were at some hole in the wall bookstore that Sam wanted to stop in at so he could get his geek on and there was this guy that worked there helping him out, seeing if he could find something Sam was interested in. After a while, it became quite clear that he was being _way_ too helpful."

Jaz chuckled. "What happened?"

"Nothing. When Sam realized what was going on, he panicked, glanced at his watch, lied really badly about having some appointment, and we booked. I had a hard time keeping from laughing until we were at least out of the store."

"I'll bet." She sighed. "Well, I should go. I'll talk to you later."

"Alright. Take it easy."

"Yea. You too." Jaz hung up the phone, paused for a moment, then went downstairs to get some lunch.

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After finishing his math work, Trevor closed his books and took out To Kill a Mockingbird, which Jaz had recently gotten for him. He had started to show more of what he'd been able to do work-wise now that Jaz knew what he could do. She didn't want to overload him with work or overestimate his abilities, though, so they weren't pushing it.

Trevor had gotten about thirty pages read before he blinked, looking up. He swung his legs down from the couch, putting the book down, as he brought his eyebrows together. Then his breath caught in his throat and he leapt up, darting the few steps over to the door, but froze before he burst through it.

_Trevor, you stay back there!_ Jaz yelled at him silently.

_Don't you dare come out, Trevor_, Ellen thought firmly. _You sit there and you act like nothing is wrong. As long as you do nothing, they've got nothing on you. Just the word of a demon. And that's worth shit._

But over their intense thoughts, Trevor heard those of another person. And though his were remarkably composed, they seemed so much louder than the others.

_I know you can hear me, Trevor_, he said calmly. _Do you think I won't do it? I will. I will cut her throat. Slowly. She'll bleed out slowly. And it will hurt. A lot. Even if I kill her, I can still go after your sister too. There's always the chance that I'm being played, as intensely as I tortured that demon to get this information, it could have still lied to me. But I doubt it. I doubt it so much that I'm willing to risk my life. So what's it going to be?_

Trevor swallowed hard.

_You stay back,_ Jaz repeated.

_I don't care what he's thinking, Trevor, I swear to God—._

Trevor took his cell phone out of his pocket, pressed the third number on speed dial, lowered the volume three levels, and stuck it in his shirt pocket. Then he opened the door.


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm glad you guys are liking this sequel! Though this one is only three chapters, I'll probably come back to this 'verse and do some more in a while, just so you know!**

Chapter 3:

Trevor walked out of the back room into the Roadhouse slowly, his face twitching occasionally from the strain of holding back tears.

"Trevor," Jaz whispered, as if desperate to give him the ability to take back his action.

"Let her go," Trevor growled at the man standing mere yards away.

The man behind Ellen, holding a knife to her throat, had a small smirk of accomplishment on his face, while Ellen stared at Trevor in defeat. There was a second man with a gun pointed at Jaz from across the room and two others in the saloon, hunters, sitting with hands relaxed on the table, ready to go for their own guns, Trevor knew. They stared at Trevor in shock, not having considered the fact that the two hunters that had walked in could be right.

"I knew it," he murmured. "So. Mind reading. The ability to absorb just about any knowledge and talent that anyone has. What else?"

Trevor swallowed. "Just that stuff. That's it," he said quietly.

"Oh no," the man told him. "I know there's something else. Because there are quite a few demons out there that know about you, and yet they haven't so much as touched a hair on your head."

"For a guy that knows so much, you don't know a lot," Trevor told him. "They were confident enough to kidnap me and torture me for a week, trying to test me, push me farther."

"Oh, yea. I know. And they did, didn't they?" he asked. "They did. Those three demons took you two years ago. And they tested you. And they pushed you. And you killed them. All three."

Trevor's eyes widened in surprise. "What?" he managed to get out.

"All three are dead," the hunter replied. "Not just exorcised. Dead. Now you want to explain to us how you killed three demons?"

Trevor stared in shock, his mouth slightly open, as if he wanted to say something.

"He didn't," Jaz snapped. "He was a ten year old boy that was being held against his will and ended up so traumatized that he barely recognized his own sister when she was in front of him. You really think he got out on his own?"

"You can't kill a demon," the man growled at her.

"Uh, yea, you can," she shot back. "If you've got the right equipment for the job."

"Oh really? And what equipment would that be?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. Jaz looked away and worked her jaw slightly before swallowing. "Do I need to repeat the question?" The man tightened the pressure on Ellen's throat and she grimaced, taking in a sharp breath.

Jaz's eyes darted back to him. "No! It's a knife," she blurted out, her heart beating overtime in her chest. "They came and got Trevor and they killed the demons with the knife."

The man narrowed his eyes. "Who?"

Jaz pursed her lips anxiously. "Winchesters," she said quietly.

The man's eyes widened as his eyebrows came together over the bridge of his nose. "Assuming you're telling the truth, you want to tell me where in the Hell those two got this knife?"

Jaz blinked. "I-I don't know. Wasn't high on my list of questions to ask them. It was more, 'How can I protect me and my brother from being killed?' that I was worried about."

The man raised an eyebrow, and then looked to Trevor. "All right. So let's ask our friendly neighborhood mind reader. Where did they get this knife?"

Trevor only hesitated for a moment, knowing that if he had any longer, the man would have increased the pressure on Ellen's throat enough to draw blood. "A demon."

Jaz looked to Trevor with confused, incredulous eyes.

"A demon," the man echoed skeptically. "A demon _gave_ them a knife that could kill other demons."

Trevor snorted. "Unlikely," he spat. "But the demon wasn't in much of a position to take it back after they got it."

The man's face slackened. "That's a load of crap," he told Trevor. "If there was such a thing, any demon worth his salt would have destroyed it. It definitely wouldn't have kept it on them."

"Unless it was killing its way up the ladder," Trevor said quietly.

After a short hesitation, the man pursed his lips and shook his head. "Nope. They don't work like that. A demon that tried to rise to power with one toothpick wouldn't get very far very fast." Trevor kept his face blank, but it wasn't enough. "You're a little liar. So where did they really get the knife?" he asked, emphasizing the question with additional pressure with the blade in his hand.

Ellen cringed, gnashing her teeth together as it pierced her skin, sending a small trickle of blood down her neck.

"Stop!" he cried in a panic. "Alright, look, they did get it from a demon. But the demon _did_ give it to them. Or at least she didn't try to get it back. Her name was Ruby. She helped the brothers kill a demon called Lilith last year when she was trying to rise to power."

The man stared at the boy in blatant disbelief for a few long moments. "You're telling me…the _Winchester brothers_ killed Lilith?"

Trevor closed his eyes briefly and then nodded. "Yea," he said. "And it wasn't me that killed those three demons." He glanced to Jaz for a moment. "I wish it was. I wish I could kill demons. Because I would be able to rest a lot easier knowing that I could protect my sister and myself like that. Knowing that the demons think I killed those three explains a lot, though. Explains why they've left us alone all this time if they could find us."

Trevor let out a tired sigh. "Look, I don't know why I'm like this. But I'm not a danger to anyone. The most dangerous thing you've got to worry about from me is solving a really hard math problem," he told him. He paused. "But here's the thing. Your entire argument hinged on the fact that I could kill demons. That my abilities really could go that far and in that case might go further, into something dangerous. Since I just told you otherwise and you now know that killing me isn't killing someone evil, you're in the sticky position of having a knife to the throat of a hunter's widow who runs a saloon that is a common hangout for hunters."

"Presuming I believe you," the man told him.

Trevor didn't say out loud that he knew the man was getting nervous. "Right. Presuming you believe me. But even if you don't and you kill me, there are two hunters over there that will dig up information on this to make sure you didn't kill a twelve year old boy who was just trying to protect his sister and the woman who took them in. The only real family he had left. And when they find out that I really was telling the truth, you're going to be in real trouble."

"So here's what I propose," Trevor said slowly. "You leave, you never cause trouble for us again, never come within a hundred miles of the Roadhouse, and I give you my word that I won't hold it against you that you planned on killing me."

The man's eyes narrowed. "Is that a threat?"

"No. It's a deal. You leave now and it's no harm, no foul. I get it; you were trying to destroy a gun before it shot anyone. Ellen will know that. Jaz will know that. And the two hunters over there will know that," Trevor told him, glancing to them momentarily. He paused. "It's your best option. And also, I'd appreciate if you didn't correct the assumption that I killed those demons. At least not to anything that might come after us."

Pursing his lips and gnashing his teeth together, the man hesitated, glancing over to the second man, communicating silently with him. Then he abruptly removed the knife from Ellen's throat. She took a few quick steps forward, spinning quickly around to face him, fire in her eyes as she held her hand against her wounded throat.

The man shifted the knife slightly in his grip before he turned and walked swiftly out the door. The second man followed closely on his heels.

Jaz darted over to Trevor with a sob, grabbing him in a hug. "Oh my God," she breathed. "Oh my God."

He hugged her back tightly. "I'm okay." Jaz held on to him for a few more ragged breaths before pulling back, her hands on his shoulders. He reached into his pocket, taking out his cell phone. "Dean?" Trevor asked.

"_Yea. Who the Hell was that son of a bitch?_" he snapped angrily.

Jaz smiled at Trevor with a tinge of pride at his quick thinking before turning and walking to Ellen, calling to the two customers, "We're closing early." They each nodded, sighing, as they took money from their wallets for the bill.

"Just a second," Trevor told Dean. He moved the phone away from his mouth. "I'm hoping you two won't be talking about this?" he asked the hunters.

"What happened here stays here," one of them said with a curt nod.

Trevor nodded back his thanks as they left, bringing the phone back to his mouth as he walked over to a table, falling into a chair as he suddenly felt the exhaustion of the situation catch up with him. "He was a hunter named Al Reynolds. The guy with him was Jake Hawthorn. You heard of them?"

"_Nope_," Dean replied. "_Not that that means much. We don't exactly subscribe to Hunters Weekly_."

"He'll keep to his word," Trevor said. "As long as I don't start spontaneously exploding people's heads or something."

Dean let out a rough sigh. "_Ya. Doesn't mean I don't want to kick his ass into next week. Or further._"

"I know. But I made a deal to keep everyone safe and I need to keep to it. We all do. You know that."

Dean paused and Trevor could imagine the scowl on his face. "_Yea_," he muttered. "_So everyone's okay?_"

"Ellen's got a cut on her neck, but it's not much. Jaz is cleaning and bandaging it now."

"_Son of a bitch_," Dean muttered through clenched teeth.

"I know," Trevor whispered. "Trust me, I know. I'm really not happy about this, but if I renege, even by proxy, he won't take it lightly."

"_Got it. No retribution on the psycho hunters_," Dean growled.

"I'm gonna go. But by the way, I'm sorry I spilled the beans on the knife."

Dean snorted. "_Dude, that's a whole new level of stupid for someone so smart. There's no way in Hell that's worth any of you getting hurt over, you hear me?_"

Trevor smiled slightly. "Yea. Okay. I'll talk to you later."

"_Alright. Take care_."

Trevor hung up the phone, let out a long sigh, and walked slowly over to the front of the store, turning the sign on the door from Open to Closed.

**THE END**


End file.
